What Happened to Georgia?
by Yuja
Summary: "Dude, you do not want to know." There were times, though, when he really couldn't help but wonder…


Hey guys! And now for something COMPLETELY different from me.

Warnings: Spoilers for... uh… everything after Blood Gulch? I have way too many friends that are still in need of a proper RvB converting. I've tried to leave the main spoilers as vague as possible in case any of them (or anyone else who hasn't seen the Season 10 finale yet) stumble across this when I'm not available to flail and shoo them off to RT's website. Also, **warning for bad language**. A rare sight indeed coming from me, but when it comes to RvB, there really isn't much that can be done to get around it.

I couldn't really decide when to have this take place, since it mostly works off knowledge Washington would have had before ever meeting the Blood Gulch crew. That being said, it takes place either between seasons 8 and 9, or after 10. I'll leave it to you guys to interpret it as you'd like.

Disclaimer: Red vs. Blue and all of the characters belong to Rooster Teeth.

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**What Happened to Georgia?**

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"_Use your pack sparingly. Course correction only. You don't want to end up like Georgia."_

"_Wait. What happened to Georgia?"_

There were times when Agent Washington wasn't sure what to believe…

"_Nobody knows. They never found him."_

…Whom to believe…

"_Dude, you do NOT want to know."_

…When to believe…

"_I really do, though!"_

Carolina had probably known something. Wash had his suspicions that she had always known more about the Project than anyone else. Hell if he was ever going to ask her about it, though.

So instead, he thought about it himself. He sat himself down at the edge of the Blue Base's roof, and thought about the past. Somewhere in the distance, he could vaguely hear Sarge yelling at Grif, Simmons saying something that was probably another attempt to kiss ass, and Caboose was shouting logic that could only make sense to him. An unmistakable cry of "Bow chicka bow wow!" told him exactly where Tucker was in all of it.

He never did find out what happened to Georgia. He didn't even know if South and York hadn't just been messing with him. Or even Carolina. Though, knowing them…

"_You guys are assholes!"_

…Yeah, they'd probably been messing with him. That didn't mean it was an outright lie, though.

The agent had clearly come and gone from the Project before Wash had arrived. Maybe it was when they had been going through the early testing phases for the suits of armor. He'd heard about Utah suffocating from using the very gear that North was later equipped with.

"Grif! What did I tell you about sleeping in the shade!"

"Here we go again..."

"A proud Red needs skin to match. Pale is for Blues!"

"I'm not pale, Sir! I'm red as a beet."

"Simmons, why would you want to be the same color as some make believe vegetable? You're supposed to be red like a Red! Unless a beet is red as a Red. Is a beet red?"

"Actually, Sir, it's more of a-"

"Is a beet red?!"

"…yes, Sir."

Another thing Washington couldn't help but wonder about some days was the history behind his new teammates and opposition. Especially when he finally realized and remembered what happened to Florida. Actually… Given how Florida had been tucked away into a box canyon with this motley bunch, all as part of some elaborate undercover mission and cover story, what did that have to say about the rest of the simulation trooper bunch? Wash decided to amuse himself.

Could Georgia have ended up like Sarge? Better yet, could Sarge _be_ Georgia? The old soldier definitely seemed to believe himself to be a regular war veteran. Speaking of age, Sarge was probably the most suitable of the lot when it came to taking age into account. From what Wash could tell, everyone else was probably too young to have been a part of the early Project Freelancer. Plus there was the running theory that the C.O. had taken a few too many knocks to the head. If Georgia had been anything like Utah, brain damage could be believable.

Then again, every time Wash was about ready to write Sarge off as completely mental, the man would come up with some deep, meaningful, profound speech that stole the words from everyone and left them feeling an overwhelming sense of being deeply motivated and inspired. He also was apparently some sort of robotics genius.

Delusional old man? Yes. Mentally gone enough to not remember being a Freelancer? Probably not.

Washington watched as Grif moved back into the shade as soon as Sarge's attention was turned elsewhere. Hmm. What about Grif? Washington's first impulse was to shove that idea off a steep cliff (the Meta had once shown the same inclination toward Grif, albeit in a more literal sense), but then he paused. When Wash had been freed of the hold on him, hadn't his first act been to join the insanity that was this warped game of Capture the Flag? Maybe the better term was that he had been "recruited" via someone else's armor being shoved at him so that he could fake his own death. Still, a simulation game was a simulation game, and a simulation game was by far a better retirement plan than any other known Freelancer had managed to get away with. It was as good as any vacation, really, and Grif treated every day here exactly like a vacation.

But Dexter Grif, as Washington had come to find out in passing, had family: a sister who, go figure, was another simulation soldier just like her older brother. As far as Washington knew, the Dakotas had been the only siblings in the Project. If Grif were a Freelancer, Wash would expect his agent name to be Virginia or West Virginia. And the name Carolina was taken, so unless the Carolina he had known had a sibling, then there wasn't the possibility of a North/South combo there, either.

Virginia. Wash could almost laugh at the idea of someone like Grif being stuck with that as a codename. Even more ridiculous was thinking that the crazy chick in yellow armor with a raging hangover, as he had met her only once before, could pass as anything remotely close to a Freelancer.

What about Simmons—Nope. Simmons was a suck up, even if he was a (supposedly mostly) sane suck up. The odds of that guy secretly being an ex-Freelancer with that mindset? Slim to none at best.

Right about then, Tucker came briefly into view. What if Tucker was a failed Freelancer? There was that deal with the special sword thing he used for fighting, and only Tucker seemed to be capable of using it. It almost sounded like Freelancer armor abilities, if he thought about it. Then there was the part where the other soldiers would make jabs about Tucker having an alien kid off somewhere—

If having an alien kid was what happened to Georgia, Washington would swear right then and there that he would never use a jetpack again.

What sounded like something exploding could be heard around on the other side of the base.

"Caboose!"

"Not my fault! Someone put a crate in my way!"

"We needed that crate, dumbass!"

"Not my fault! Someone put a grenade in its way!"

Oh, right. In his momentary horror over alien babies and jetpacks, he'd almost forgotten about Caboose. As with Grif, the initial response was to toss that possibility away. The more appropriate response was, "Oh. Hell. No."

Caboose? Really? Washington must be spending too much time in the sun. Caboose was a good kid, but he wasn't really… all… _there_. Granted, he did have an odd array of skill sets. Where Sarge was skilled at building robots, Caboose was skilled in… talking to them? Wash was never really sure how the guy did it. He was physically strong, able to lift and move crates and vehicles like some sort of human ant, but barely seemed to notice. He was skilled at weaponry, but in all the wrong ways when it came to hitting the correct target. That, or Caboose truly couldn't help trying to kill his own teammates. Poor Joenes. Jones. Whatever.

Someone—Tucker or Church—had once let slip something about the oxygen being cut off to Caboose's helmet for a while at some point. That may have triggered some of the obvious damage, but the blue simulation trooper had survived that mishap. Equipment failure, huh? Utah had died in less time. Georgia would have to be next to immortal to survive not only whatever Caboose had survived, but whatever Project Freelancer had thrown at him as well.

Then Wash remembered something else, and begrudgingly had to admit that it wasn't all that hard to believe it possible. He never would have figured out who Church really was so soon if he hadn't caught the "ghost" coming out of Caboose's armor, after all. Church hadn't been the only not-ghost to go into Caboose's mind, either, and it hadn't been in single file. If Washington was doing his math right, then that meant Caboose's mind had housed three minds aside from his own at least once. That was one more mind than Carolina had ever dealt with, and he knew very well how _that_ had ended.

Sometimes, Washington had to wonder if Caboose was even human. He was dim-witted, oblivious, and easily confused. Then there were those random moments when Caboose would make a statement or give an explanation with such clarity and insight, the other soldiers were forced to give him their attention in some sort of awed, bewildered respect, before quickly dismissing the phenomena. It was in moments like those when Caboose seemed to know much, much more about their situation than anyone else could take credit for. As though he was the only one who really saw the big picture from an outside perspective. If Washington were a fan of science fiction and parallel universes, he could almost imagine that everything in their lives had just been some big, expansive video game, Caboose was the kid player who got the game for Christmas or his birthday, and that he sometimes decided to play with all of the cheats and walkthroughs printed out and set beside him on the carpet in front of the screen.

Wow. That had to be the worst analogy ever. Of all—

"Wash! Hey, Wash!"

Tucker's shouts pulled him out of his stunned stupor. As he ran off to see what his teammates wanted, he resolved that he really needed to stop letting his mind wander like that. Caboose as a Freelancer? Honestly.

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**The End**

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A lot of that was Wash grasping at straws to amuse himself, and of course me having some fun. Not all of it is details I agree with, and some other parts that I do agree with were left out because Wash could only know so much. Caboose as Agent Georgia has been something of a pet theory of mine lately. Now to wait and see how long it is before Rooster Teeth reveals something entirely different that blows all of the theories into oblivion. Masters of plot twists, they are, right there.

Thanks for reading! Reviews and constructive critiques loved as always! Laters, folks!


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